I ran the rest away in my car, my mind spinning over the fact that I was about to be a dad. Holy shit. I tried to put my keys in the lock, but my hands were shaking so bad I couldn’t line it up with the opening. Deacon grabbed them from my hand and quickly unlocked the door. Then he opened it and shoved me inside. He tossed my keys at me and then jogged around the other side to drop into the passenger seat.
Once again, I couldn’t get the key in the hole. Deacon sighed and threw me a look that suggested I’d lost my mind. As quickly as he entered, he popped out of the car and appeared at my still open door. “What the hell is wrong with you, man?”
I was as shocked as him. I constantly put my life on the line and was known for being cool under pressure. But now, when I needed it most, I was a fucking wreck. Deacon grabbed my arm and yanked me out before shoving me toward the rear. “Get in the car, asshole!” he shouted as he dropped into the driver seat. I hurried to do as instructed, and he started the car. He took off like a bat out of hell, but I still urged him to speed up. “Hurry the fuck up! My wife is in labor!”
“No shit,” he responded.
He turned down the opposite road from Cora’s and my house, and I glanced in the other direction, confused. “Where are you going, Deacon?”
“She’s already at the hospital.”
Well, shit. “Get there!”
“What the hell do you think I’m doing?”
After what seemed like an eternal ride—that would have turned a civilian’s hair gray—he squealed into the hospital parking lot and screeched to a stop in front of the entrance. I flew out of the car, not bothering to shut the door or say a word, and ran inside.
When I approached the desk, I demanded to see my wife in the same tone I would use to train a batch of new recruits. The nurse behind the counter was not impressed, and she raised an eyebrow. We had a stare down, but I broke first and lowered my voice to ask politely how to find Cora.
She gave me instructions, and I sprinted down the hallway to the elevator. I jumped on, but Deacon slipped inside before the doors closed.
“What are you doing here?”
“No way am I gonna miss this,” he said with a wide grin.
“You are not watching the birth of my son, asshole!” I snarled.
Deacon’s smile stretched even further. “I meant watching you freak out. The guys want updates. Mind if I take some pictures? I wonder if I can get some popcorn around here?”
I cuffed him on the back of the head, but he just laughed heartily.
The elevator whooshed open, and I jogged down to another set of double doors that led to the maternity ward waiting room. I pointed at a chair and gave Deacon a look that said he better sit down and shut up.
Another nurse sat behind a glass window, and she looked up at me as I neared. “Reed. Wife. Cora. Um…” I couldn’t string two damn words together.
The nurse’s eyes twinkled, but she held back her smile and calmly gave me the room number. I left Deacon laughing behind me as I burst through yet another set of doors.
My shoes squeaked on the white linoleum floor as I found my way to room four.
Cora was reclining on a hospital bed, her expression worried. When she saw me, her blue and green gaze filled with joy and relief. Then her eyes narrowed, and she glared at me.
“Cutting it kind of close, babe.”
“I am so sorry, gingersnap,” I sighed as I ran my hands through my hair. “I couldn’t get my car in my keys,” I sputtered as I strode to her side, the words coming out all wrong. “Deacon ran me here, and I drove to your room as fast as I could.”
Cora’s lips pinched for a second before she broke out into a peal of giggles. “Who are you, and what have you done with my cool and collected husband?”
I gathered her into my arms and touched my forehead to hers with a deep sigh. “I can’t get over it. I’m going to be a dad. I don’t know what to do with a baby! What if he breaks when I hold him? What if—”
“Huntley,” Cora interrupted my rambling with a chuckle. “I can’t—”
Panic rose in my throat when she stopped and grimaced in pain, leaning forward to put her hands on her large belly. “Are you okay? Is something strong with the baby? Should I get the doctor?” A small part of my brain muttered that I was overreacting, but it was overpowered by all the irrational emotions.